


Families of Choice

by Chrysaora



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Scenes - Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe Exchange 2018, Exchange Assignment, Gen, POV Multiple, Rey is Palpatine’s granddaughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-03 08:47:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15815499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chrysaora/pseuds/Chrysaora
Summary: Kylo Ren could be so much more to Rey. He could be her teacher, yes, but also her protector, her friend, her big brother or father figure…maybe even her lover. Her husband! What a great match that would be! Poetic. Kylo Ren, only grandson of Darth Vader, wedded to Rey, only granddaughter of—





	Families of Choice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kylohen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylohen/gifts).



She’d _looked_ ordinary enough when he’d first seen her arrive on the island, the young woman with the staff and the satchel. And even when she’d approached him, holding out his father’s long lost lightsaber like a courier with an urgent message, her facial expression telegraphing hope and stubborn determination in equal measure, her outward appearance had meant precisely nothing to him.

Then, he’d taken the lightsaber from her hand…

…and remembered, unbidden, another time and another lightsaber and another hand. _That_ hand had been white and withered, corrupted by the evil energies of the dark side of the Force, and it had stroked the hilt of his lightsaber like it was a pampered pet about to be euthanized while the hand’s owner had taunted him. He’d been provoked by the taunts and tried to take the life of an unarmed man. It was for the greater good, he’d told himself.

Really, he was fortunate that his father had stopped him that day in the throne room. If only his father had been there to stop him the next time he’d ignited his blade, tempted to strike down another unarmed man. Things might have been different.

But they weren’t different. No, he didn’t deserve to be the bearer of Anakin Skywalker’s lightsaber. So, he tossed it aside. And he didn’t understand the significance of that memory until later, after he’d had a partial change of heart about the young woman Rey’s training and watched her touch the Force.

“You went straight to the dark,” he told her, shaken by what he’d glimpsed. “It offered you something you needed, and you didn’t even try to stop yourself.”

She needed to know the truth about her family, and the dark side held the answers.

“I’ve seen this raw strength only once before, in Ben Solo. It didn’t scare me enough then. It does now.”

Once, he’d thought his nephew would be heir to the power of Anakin Skywalker. But he’d forgotten—or perhaps he’d chosen to ignore—the fact that Anakin Skywalker had also been Darth Vader. It was _Vader_ , not Anakin, who lived on most strongly in his grandson.

Luke Skywalker, Jedi Master in exile, had never been the brightest of binary suns, but he was not so stupid as to attempt to train _Sheev Palpatine’s granddaughter_. Why would he elect freely to stand in the place where Sith lightning had once struck him? His sister would have to wage her war against the First Order without him.

He ordered Rey to leave Ahch-To and never return. She obeyed, and she didn’t even try to argue.

***

His eyes were fixed on the half of the body which remained seated on the throne, but the visions he saw were only in his mind. Now that the throne was vacant—not literally, true, but in the sense that it mattered—it was Kylo Ren’s to seize for himself. Only…well…

It would be lonely by himself at the top. He understood why the Sith had practiced the Rule of Two; yes, it secured the line of succession, but it also, and perhaps more importantly, kept the isolation that power brings with it at bay. Partially. Master and apprentice were never equals. That was only logical, and it was traditional. He’d experienced it firsthand with Snoke. However, it needn’t be that way.

Kylo Ren could be so much more to Rey. He could be her teacher, yes, but also her protector, her friend, her big brother or father figure…maybe even her lover. Her husband! What a great match that would be! Poetic. Kylo Ren, only grandson of Darth Vader, wedded to Rey, only granddaughter of—

“Ben?” His old name on her lips snapped him out of his musings.

“That name has no meaning to me. I killed Ben Solo years ago.”

Her denial reverberated through the Force. She didn’t even have to speak it aloud.

“You’re still clinging to your delusions about the past. What do you think you will gain from that?” Rey’s expression was fierce. “Ah, I see. Do you want to know the truth about your parents?” he asked. “Or have you always known and just hidden it away—hidden it from yourself? You know the truth. Say it!”

She was paralyzed. Even her mind had stopped dead. She’d buried the memories of the past down deep, so deep that she’d forgotten they were there, waiting to be excavated. But Kylo Ren had seen them when they’d touched: born into opulence, raised in privation, and always, always hidden.

“You’re an orphan,” he said, “and your parents—they’re dead, hunted down and killed like animals by the enemy long ago. _Our_ enemy, Rey.” Would that be enough to shake loose those memories of hers? Hmm, apparently not. She was still frozen, terrified. He needed to shake her out of that irrational fear first.

“They abandoned you with nothing because you would be safe as long as the galaxy believed you to be nothing,” he continued. “But you’re not nothing, Rey. Not to the galaxy, and not to me. _You’re not nothing_. You’re Emperor Palpatine’s sole surviving heir, Rey, and you have inherited his strength in the Force. Join me, Rey, and we will rule together. We can bring order to chaos. Join me. Please.”

Now was the moment! What, and whom, would Rey choose?

Kylo Ren extended a hand, held his breath, and waited.

***

She watched Poe introduce himself to Rey, eager and guileless as always, any friend of Finn’s a friend Poe’s as well. Rey seemed both surprised and flattered by his interest in her. And she watched Rey watch Finn, consumed by his concern for the injured Rose. They would all be good for each other, she knew—bonds formed in the face of adversity were often the strongest of all.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” Rey began as she took a seat beside Leia. In Rey’s lap lay Anakin Skywalker’s broken lightsaber.

“You don’t need to say anything if you don’t want to. You’re allowed to just _be_.”

“But—”

“Luke told me about your parents, you know,” she interrupted. Well, he hadn’t told her, not as such, but she’d felt the pain of his memories, the subsequent flash of his insight, and, finally, his attendant concerns about her safety in the future, through the Force.

Leia had dismissed those concerns, and Luke, at his end, had at least had the wherewithal to feel sorry about how badly he’d treated Rey. If only he’d been able to apologize in person before he’d died. It might have helped assuage the lingering sorrow and anger Rey was feeling. And fear. Fear of herself and her heritage. As things stood now, Leia would have to pick up the pieces herself. She hoped she was up to the task.

Rey’s shoulders drooped, and she dropped her gaze down to the Falcon’s durasteel plate decking. “He wanted me to join him,” she whispered. No need to tell her who “he” was, naturally. “He said it was my destiny.”

“No, Rey,” Leia said, her voice acquiring the eloquent vehemence of her years as a politician required to peddle easily digestible certainties. “Where we come from— _who_ we come from—that isn’t all we are. It _can’t_ be.”

Her brother had been proof of that simple truth. So was she, if she were honest. And so was her prodigal son, who’d been loved his entire life and yet had turned his back on that love. Instead, he’d chosen endless petty grievance, violence, domination, and lust for power.

“You can’t choose your family, but you can choose your friends. If you choose us for that particular honor…” Leia smiled, took Rey’s hands into her own, and guided them to the lightsaber on her lap. They held the broken pieces together. She knew what Rey had already chosen—and whom she had chosen. “We have everything we need.”

 

END

**Author's Note:**

> Posted to the exchange on August 29, 2018.


End file.
